Between the Lines
by Velace
Summary: Prompt: Post 3B - Regina leaves the diner after accusing Emma of being like her mother and Emma goes after her.
1. Chapter 1

**Author Note: **This is a prompt I received on tumblr and I like it, which means I have to post.

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><p>There is a feeling you get in your stomach, weighted with an unknown sickness as your eyes burn and your throat closes with the effort to prevent yourself from giving in to your desire to just break down. There is nothing that Emma loathes more in life, than that feeling. She has lived twenty-eight years, doing her very best to avoid ever feeling like that and she has failed a total of three times.<p>

She broke when Neal left her sitting in jail by herself.

She broke when she gave up her son because she didn't think she had anything to offer him.

She broke the night Graham died, cradled in her arms because of her, because of her need to push and push until something gave way and she was left staring at the destruction wrought by someone who fought back.

As she stands there in the diner, surrounded by murmured questions and she watches the woman she had come to respect walk away from her, all she can feel is the promise of that crushing weight bearing down on her.

She is not her mother, and yet the words tear at her, shredding her heart into a million pieces as the image of Regina's own heart breaking plays in her mind over and over again. She is not her mother, but she knows that isn't what Regina meant.

She tries to say her name, to call her back, to apologise but there are no words. Nothing she can think to say will change having seen that look of betrayal in Regina's eyes; nothing will fix the damage she has caused. She saved a life, and rather than feel like the hero others will claim she is, all she feels is unfettered regret.

Although her voice refuses to work, she realises that her legs remain firmly under her command and so she runs. She chases. She refuses to let Regina escape; she will not lose the one person she fought hardest to keep.

Screw Killian, screw her parents and screw Robin fucking Hood for not knowing the value of what Regina offered him.

She runs. She chases. She catches. She is without words, without breath and Regina is staring at her as though she wants to do the most unspeakably painful thing imaginable and Emma _laughs. _She laughs because—there isn't a single damn thing Regina can do to her that is any more painful than feeling as if she betrayed the woman standing before her.

Regina scowls, anger and confusion warring in her expression but Emma ignores it. She can't explain, she doesn't even think Regina would listen. Instead, she kneels, the rain from earlier that night seeping through the legs of her jeans as she stares up at the brunette.

Confusion is all that is left to meet her and she wants to laugh again, but that weight—that weight has returned and it's making her feel sick because what if this doesn't go the way she wants it to and—no, she tells herself. She can't think the worst of Regina if she wants to set things right.

For once, she needs to believe, she has to stay true to herself and trust the one person who doesn't lie to her, and doesn't sugar coat her words, who hasn't abandoned her when she could— when she _should _have.

"If you truly believe," she croaks, her throat dry from the effort to hold back, to deny herself that fourth time. "If you honestly think that I am like my mother, I need to prove to you that you're wrong."

She swallows, angrily swiping the tears from her eyes before continuing. "All you've ever wanted to be is Regina and I know that offering myself up to you as if you're the Evil Queen would only serve to strengthen that belief; so I need to know how to fix this."

Regina simply stares, her expression blank and Emma is genuinely crying now, feeling as though nothing will make any of this right but she keeps trying because she _can't _lose Regina—not now, not ever.

"If I didn't know any better, I would give you my life to undo what I have done," she confesses. "I _never _meant to betray you but you're right, I didn't think of the consequences and there is nothing worse than knowing that I'm the one responsible for the pain you're in."

There is silence and it is maddening, thick and filled with—not tension but something, something she is unable to put a word to and she hangs her head, chin pressing into her chest as she sighs.

"Get up."

Emma blinks up at her, certain she had imagined the words but Regina is looking at her with something akin to remorse and a small sense of hope flares within her chest.

"Get off the ground, Emma," Regina murmurs.

"Regina, I—"

"Now," she interrupts—demands and Emma rises slowly, wincing upon registering the dull, cold ache in her knees.

Regina glances down and shakes her head, a defeated slump to her shoulders as she returns her gaze to teary emerald eyes. She shouldn't be surprised that Emma came after her, not after everything they've been through together but the fact of the matter is that she is, she is surprised because no one genuinely cares enough about her to give chase when she runs.

No one since Daniel, and no one until Emma Swan, it seems.

"I don't…" she pauses and takes a deep breath, closing her eyes because seeing Emma breaking in front of her is not a sight she wants to remember. "I don't think you are like your mother," she says and she is shocked to hear the choked sob before she's pulled into a bone-crushing hug.

"Miss Swan!" she gasps and Emma's muffled laughter in her ear is almost—almost enough to make her forget this whole night and pretend it didn't happen.

But it did.

And Emma is here, apologising—embracing her as though she _means _something to her and that… that can't be true. They're friends, of course they're friends but it's nothing more and—hell and damnation, Emma Swan is an overwhelming blight on her senses.

"I'm sorry," Emma whispers into the crook of her neck and Regina sighs, accepting that this moment is really happening as she folds her arms around the blonde's waist.

Emma understands that it isn't about Robin and that is proof enough, proof that she is nothing like Snow White.

"I know."


	2. Chapter 2

**Author Note: _aryousavvy_** requested more and I caved because I am WEAK. Side note, I'm keeping this listed as complete but there is a good chance I'll add a third (and final, honest) chapter as it's kind of mean... and rude, to leave it where I have. Sooo, no complaining?

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><p>Neither keep track of how long the two of them stand there like that, wrapped in each other's embrace. It starts to feel good, natural—as though it is something they should have done a long time ago and maybe, just maybe their history wouldn't have been filled with the hostility and misunderstandings that it is.<p>

Regina feels genuine care radiating from the blonde, and it has been so long that she can't even remember the last time she'd felt so safe within another person's presence let alone their arms.

Emma is happy, unnaturally so and there is warmth seeping into every fibre of her being the longer Regina holds on. It started as something loose, tentative but as the minutes passed, arms tightened their hold and hands fisted in her jacket.

When she pulls back, she refuses to break away completely and there's a small smile dancing at the edge of dark lips that seems to just—erase all the bad things between them and she can't help but stare at it. It's beautiful, it's tempting and oh.

Oh, she wants to lean in and capture it, and so she does, their lips meeting in the softest of kisses.

Even as her mind registers what she's doing, she doesn't stop. Instead, she presses harder and her hands somehow slip beneath clothes, gliding around hips as she pulls Regina against her. Her fingers tingle with the heat of the flesh beneath them and there isn't a single feeling in the universe she can imagine loving more than when Regina responds.

It is something tender, something sweet and amazing and—everything Emma thinks a kiss should be, lips moving in tandem, fitting perfectly against one another, intent and comfort and—just everything she needs.

The thought that crosses her mind is belated, quiet, but hopeful that it is everything Regina needs too in that one, too brief moment of simply being.

Like all good things, however, it has to end and when it does, all she wants to do is start all over again, but then she makes the mistake of looking into those eyes and she knows she can't. She won't, not until Regina tells her why she is looking at her the way that she is.

There is emotion she doesn't recognise within those dark depths. It isn't fear, and it isn't happiness.

"What are you doing?"

Regina murmurs and wow, Emma thinks, the sound of her voice right now should be illegal and—oh yes, she does recognise that look after all. She licks her lips, barely resisting the moan of tasting Regina still on her mouth.

Her own voice has taken on a similar timber, stomach flipping with undeniable want as she replies, "Seeing you, appreciating you, wanting you..."

Loving you, she wants to continue but Regina has already come to a decision and they're kissing again. There are hands in her hair and she sighs, a tongue seeking entrance to her mouth that she readily grants, parting her lips as she closes her eyes and surrenders to the sensations of Regina invading her senses.

That weighted feeling has travelled north, settling in her mind, clouding her thoughts and she feels nothing, nothing but the hungry devouring of lips and the nails scratching through her hair. She moans and Regina responds, one hand slipping down, curling around her jaw, holding her in place as their hips press together.

Emma grinds against her and Regina breaks the kiss with a pleasured gasp as she throws her head back. Lips trail kisses along her throat, tongue licking a path to the quickening pulse before Emma latches on, sucking and drawing the most exquisite sounds into the air.

Running her hands down Emma's body, Regina grabs the firm mounds of the blonde's ass and tries to pull her closer, needing to feel more of her and Emma groans against her neck, sending vibrations throughout her body.

She can feel herself slickening with undeniable need, the want for this woman overwhelming the realisation she has that this—this is the reason it hurt so much, why the pain had cut so deep, so thorough and final it had seemed.

"Emma," she tries to halt them.

The fact they are standing outside, barely twenty feet from the diner doesn't escape her and, if things are going to progress any further, she doesn't want a good portion of the town stumbling across them in the process.

"Emma… stop."

She does and _god _Regina hates herself for it because not only does Emma stop, but she also releases the hold she has on her and all Regina wants is the warmth back as Emma retreats a step.

"Sorry, I—"

Regina shakes her head, closing that unwanted space between them and silencing her words with the soft press of lips. "No more," she murmurs against her mouth.

No more talking, no more apologies.

It is presumptuous, impulsive and entirely unlike Regina to assume what is about to happen—and it sounds an awful lot like something Emma would do but she doesn't care as she deepens the kiss, and in a swirl of smoke, she transports them to the mansion.

Emma pulls back to look around, eyebrows almost disappearing into her hairline before she grins, amused but knowing as their eyes meet once again. She leans in; her opinion clear as she reconnects their lips and Regina melts in acceptance of the desire she feels returned to her.

Hands slip beneath clothes, pushing and pulling, releasing buttons and lowering zips until they're both stood clad in nothing more than their underwear.

Eyes roam appreciatively, slowly over one another. Emma in her low-cut, blood red boy shorts and matching sports bra. Regina in her black lace panties and a bra that perfectly sculpts her cleavage, supple olive flesh ripe for Emma's mouth which waters at the sight.

"Dear god," she breathes, dark emerald eyes flicking to chestnut pools filled with unrestrained want. "How are you even real?"

Regina smirks, taking her by the hand and dragging her towards the stairs. The second she pulled Emma's shirt over her head to take in the view of those defined abdominals, all she could think about is running her tongue along the muscles and seeing which sounds would spill from pale pink lips.

The moment she hits the second-floor landing, Emma's submission ends and she tugs the hand in hers, spinning Regina and pulling her in as she claims her lips. She walks the brunette backwards as her tongue slips inside a hot, greedy mouth and pushes her up against the wall.

This isn't the way she imagined her night ending, but damn is she glad she took her head out of her ass long enough to chase after this woman.


End file.
